


I'm a believer (nothing could be worse)

by Elisexyz



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: (Referenced) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 22:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13646079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: “You offered me protection in exchange for ownership,” she adds. His face falls, and she doesn’t know what to make of the knot in her stomach. “I had no choice in all this.”





	I'm a believer (nothing could be worse)

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt on Tumblr that got out of hand LOL.  
>  [29: “There was never an us.” + Biospecialist.](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/post/170880292169/hi-since-i-totally-love-grant-ward-and-miss-him)

He quickly glances outside one more time before closing the door, his fingers still tightly wrapped up around her arm.

Jemma observes how he’s been keeping his back on her the whole time, fighting his way to a quiet corner for both of them, shielding her like he’s been doing in the past months and like he did back when she still thought he was one of the good guys.

It’s ridiculous that he’s putting up the act, considering that they both know that the people storming the building aren’t hostiles, not for her at least.

“We’ll be safe for a while here,” he announces, finally turning towards her. He eases the grip on her arm, turning it into a slight caress.

“That’s SHIELD,” Jemma states.

He’s not stupid, she knows he isn’t. Yet, he keeps his facial features in check and he plays dumb. “Yeah,” he replies. “We need to leave.”

He must know that it won’t work, that she’s stopped fighting only because she had no chance to win, but now— they came for her. There’s no way she’s letting them leave without getting her freedom back.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she states, pulling back slightly. It’s just half a step, but he immediately notices.

“Jemma,” he calls, softly. “This is our chance to start again, away from Hydra. We can be free.”

“I can’t believe it,” she scoffs. “There was never an _us_. _You_ were free,” she spits out. For the first time in what seems forever, she sees the light at the end of this tunnel. She sees a way _out_. She can do more than just _survive_. “You offered me protection in exchange for _ownership_ ,” she adds. His face falls, and she doesn’t know what to make of the knot in her stomach. “I had no choice in all this.”

“Jemma,” he calls again, taking a step closer to fill that distance that she subconsciously put between them as she talked. His hands go up to her shoulders, his thumbs stroking her gently and reassuringly. It’s a familiar dance, and by now her body automatically relaxes under his touch. She’s supposed to tense up like she used to. “This was never about ownership, you know it.”

“Do I?” she snaps. “You said— _If they know you are mine, they won’t touch you_ , right? Or is my memory failing me?”

“That was _before_ —” he protests, but she doesn’t let him finish.

“Before _what?”_ she interrupts. “Are you trying to say that you fell in _love_ with me? Because a good way to show it would have been to _free_ me.”

“That wasn’t up to me, and you know it,” he replies. She never understood how he could make his eyes look so _earnest_ , even while talking about feelings that can’t truly exist. During their time together, he was always sweet and attentive in a way that felt so _genuine_ — there’s a part of her that Jemma can’t wholly convince that he _wasn’t_.

“You could have found a way,” she snaps. She realizes that he’s still touching her, and that she’s not supposed to _let_ him. She pulls back, and this time he stays right where he is. “Whatever you think there was between us— it wasn’t _there_ ,” she states. “I was _using_ you to survive, just like you were using me for—” The last word dies in her throat.

She was always aware of the dubious morality of everything that she was doing, but after two weeks of her experiencing what it was like to _not_ cooperate, after she started suspecting that her friends wouldn’t come— Ward appeared then, all soft touches and gentle reminders that they were considering brainwashing and that he could _help_ her, if she just trusted him a little bit. So she did. And life got so much _easier_ that if offering some intimacy could keep him interested in helping— she could live with it.

“It was never about sex,” he says, gently. “We are much more than that.”

He moves closer again, but this time he doesn’t touch her. Jemma’s eyes slide down his chest to avoid eye-contact. “I am not leaving. I’m staying here and waiting for my team to find me,” she states.

“Jemma— Jemma, look at me.”

He asked. She can’t admit to defeat. So she does raise her eyes again, and he still looks so painfully _sincere_. God, she _wants_ to believe him. “What?” she asks, quickly.

“We would be okay— together,” he tries again.

She knows that he would protect her, he’s proven as much. _Why_ , she can’t be sure. Her guess is that he liked owning her, being her knight in shining armour and guarding dragon at the same time. Her guess is that he was lonely and she was convenient. Her guess is that he’s holding onto her because letting her go would be a personal defeat.

And yet there’s still that tiny angle of her mind that keeps falling for his lies.

“ _We_ don’t exist,” she empathizes. “I’m not going with you.”

He inhales, his shoulders dropping by an inch, and Jemma can see resignation making its way on his features.

“Are you going to let them lock me up?” he asks, calmly.

Before Jemma has time to think beyond the instinctive ‘No’, followed by ‘I should’, that popped into her mind, her eyes run to the fire escape on her right. He immediately catches her slip-up, and when her eyes are back on him he’s smiling – it’s soft and warm and she hates how it makes her heart jump.

“Alright,” he says, slowly. He takes the last step separating them and he moves her hair behind her ear – it’s slower than usual, maybe he’s taking his sweet time to imprint it in his memory. “I’ll keep the second phone,” he announces, his eyes searching for hers the way they do when he wants to make sure that she understands. “If you need me, just call. Day or night, I’ll come.”

Jemma swallows. “I won’t,” she answers. Her voice comes out tiny, and his fingers are still in her hair. She isn’t sure if she means that she won’t need him or that she won’t call anyway.

He picks the first.

“But if you _do_ need me,” he says, with the slight grin that makes its appearance whenever she fights back. “I’ll be there.”

“Okay,” she lets out before she can push it down. She may be weak for it, but she can’t help believing him. Just this once.

He steals a good-bye kiss before heading for the door. It’s deep and needy, and maybe all too brief. Jemma feels stupid for thinking it.

“Take this,” he says, placing his gun in her hand. She knows he always keeps at least a couple of knives on him, but they were taken by surprise during breakfast, she knows that he barely had time to grab _that_ gun, let alone a spare one.

She’s supposed to be relieved that he won’t have much to kill SHIELD agents with.

“I’ll be fine,” he assures, either because he picked up on her reluctant worry or because he’s just arrogant enough that he _assumed_ she’d be worried.

A last cocky grin and he’s gone, leaving her standing on her own with a traitor’s gun and not the slightest clue of what’s going on inside her head. She moves until her back is against the wall, she clenches the gun in her hands and, as she waits for her friends to come for her, she tries to ignore how lonely and exposed she’s suddenly feeling.


End file.
